


gardens full of aching trees

by galacticdrift (Ancalime)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, Longing, M/M, just absolute Yearning, misuse of Lay On Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 03:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime/pseuds/galacticdrift
Summary: Just...kicking around some ideas about how little Cad heals himself, mainly, and why that might be, and how Fjord might react upon finding out (spoilers: they kiss). I meant for this to get spicy with the Lay On Hands but Fjord really just had his heart set on yearning instead.Title from Murder By Death's "Solitary One."
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 29
Kudos: 328





	gardens full of aching trees

After days of sleeping huddled together in Caleb's hut every night, looking behind their backs every moment of every day, to have Obann's plans finally splintered like so much rotten wood is an intense relief in many ways, and Fjord can't help but appreciate that one of them is the ability to sleep in some amount of privacy, with only whom he wishes.

Despite now possessing enough coin between then to fill one of the inn's rooms completely, the group still reserves their usual three out of habit, and Fjord thinks that even if they'd wanted to spend the extra coin, the day had been harrowing enough that he wouldn't look forward to a sleeping entirely alone. The habit of watchful paranoia is slow to leach from his bones.

He and Caduceus stumble into their room and start shedding armor and packs immediately. When other members of the Nein poke their heads into Fjord and Cad's room, they're sometimes surprised by the fact that Fjord is the neat one and Cad is the one who tends to leave his things strewn about, but Cad wasn't the one who spent most of his adult life in various regimented and space-limited living situations.

As he's setting down his folded surcoat, his armor and equipment already done and dealt with, Fjord hears a hiss and turns to see Cad, moving slower, fumble at the shoulder clasp of his armor. "Let me," he says, and turns to help. The clasp loosens easy enough under his hands and Cad lets it fall into his grasp, letting it drop with a clunk to the ground and lean against a small chest.

Catching Cad's hand as he lets go of the breastplate, Fjord brings it up to look at it. The glove is torn, skin split and bruised across the knuckles where his hand was slammed against a stone pillar. Carefully, Fjord peels the glove off and lets his thumb stroke gently over unmarred skin.

"You don't take enough care for yourself," Fjord says.

"Taking care of the rest of the group is more important than my own cuts and scrapes."

"If you fall in battle you can't take care of anyone." The thought alone curdles Fjord's blood.

"I _know_," Cad grumbles, but doesn't push further. Concentrating on his connection to Melora, Fjord brings his other hand up and just barely brushes one fingertip along the broken skin, watching it close over and begin to heal in his wake. It's minimal, nothing close to the full proper healing Caduceus himself could do, but Fjord can't help himself.

"Fjord--" The softness in Cad's voice makes Fjord pause, but he doesn't look up.

"If you won't take care of yourself, allow me to do what little I can to help," he says, and takes Cad's other hand next, working that glove off as well. There are no cuts or scrapes on this hand, but on his forearm, removing the glove reveals two broad bruises, right where the straps of his shield would lie. Fjord turns Cad's wrist upward and curls his hand over the bruises, focusing once again. When he lets go, the fresh, angry red has seeped out of the purple bruises, and they're smaller, edges fading to healing green. For a moment Cad's hand grips his arm, just below the elbow.

"Here, sit down," Fjord says, stepping forward and guiding Cad to the edge of the bed. When Cad sits, his face comes into Fjord's downturned view, and though Fjord can't fully decipher his expression, his bright eyes glimmer with something...trusting. Expectant.

He turns his head and Fjord sees, previously hidden by the fall of his hair, a vicious, swollen knot near the back of his head. He has no idea at what point in the fighting Caduceus even got it, but he's already reaching out to cup his hand around it. As it subsides, Cad lets out a sigh and leans into his touch, his eyes fluttering closed.

Fjord kneels in front of him, turning his attention to the laces and buckles of Cad's boots until he can tug those off as well, one after the other, tossing them aside. There's a stiffness to the motions of one leg, and Fjord braces Cad's bad knee in both hands, leaning forward to let his forehead rest on it. As the magic flows through him he feels a hand settle on his head, fingers carding slowly, so slowly, through his hair.

When Fjord lifts his head, Cad's fingers trail along his cheek before he drops his hand, and Fjord almost lets himself think it's just that his reaction time is a little slower with him being so tired. It would be safer, he thinks, to assume that, than to face full-on the softness he's felt growing between them.

Plucking at the flowing silk of Cad's sleeve, Fjord looks up, questioning. Nodding, Cad unfastens the overshirt and undershirt, letting them puddle behind him on the bed. There's a blood-soaked gash through both on the left side, and once they're removed Fjord can see the wound below. Scabs have closed it, but the movement needed for Cad to remove his shirt is enough to break them, fresh blood welling up and dripping down his ribs.

The shock is abrupt as a bucket of ice water to the face. Fjord clamps a hand over the wound, looking up at Cad's face in a panic and burning through more of his healing than he intended.

"I'm all right," Caduceus says, and Fjord feels his face twist.

"Caduceus, you are _not_ 'all right!'" His voice comes out wilder than he intends, more angry, and he swallows down his words. It's far from a life-threatening injury, despite the lack of care for his own health it reveals in Caduceus. Yelling won't help anything.

Even a day before, stanching the blood flow would have taken more healing than Fjord had left, but it's almost as if, in his panic, he's pushed his ability further than it could go before. The cut has closed over when he pulls his hand away, looking at the blood smeared across it. A shudder runs through him.

Caduceus cups Fjord's shaking hand in his and wipes it down with his undershirt, soaking up the blood, dabbing between his fingers and rubbing gently until only traces linger, under his nails and flecked here and there in the lines of his palm.

"Sorry." It's redundant -- Fjord as good as heard the apology in the careful, caring manner Caduceus cleaned the blood from his hand -- but he doesn't mind the words reinforcing the actions.

"I should have healed that up more. I honestly didn't realize it was still that bad." He sighs, looking abashed. He clearly knows whatever he's about to say will only upset Fjord further. "Everything hurts, pretty much. It can be...easy, sometimes, to overlook specifics."

Fjord winces. "_Caduceus_."

"I know, I know." Cad murmurs. "Here."

He catches Fjord's hand in his and brings them both to his side, over the cut that's now properly closed but still healing. The familiar rush of magic tingles against his skin as it passes through Caduceus, who straightens from a slump he probably didn't even realize he'd fallen into. He looks better already -- steadier, his eyes clearer -- and Fjord doesn't even want to think about all the potential internal injuries he just healed, bone fractures and strained muscles that he suffered through just so he could be sure to have healing available for others.

"Better?" Fjord asks, more to get him to admit it than because he actually needs to know.

"Mmm. Much better." Cad sighs. "You're right. It's a bad habit. I'll try to be better about it."

"And I'll try to help remind you." Fjord curls his fingers around Cad's hand once more. The scraped knuckles aren't fully healed -- superficial, mostly-healed injuries tending to be the last to go -- and Fjord draws Cad's knuckles to his lips, delivering one last touch of healing with a kiss.

There's a soft noise above him from Cad, who frees his hand without moving it far, just enough to graze one of Fjord's tusks with his thumb. His fingers fan out over Fjord's cheek, tilting his head up until Fjord meets his eyes. There's still a bit of a rueful, apologetic edge to his expression, but for the most part it's almost unbearably soft and open.

"I don't want to lose you, Caduceus."

"Nor I you." Fjord can see he has more on his mind, though he's silent for a long moment before continuing. "When I left the Grove with you all, for all my talk about destiny, and growth, and the hopes and plans the gods may have for each of us, I have a tendency to forget that-- I'm not somehow _separate_ from all of it. No matter how separate I may _feel_ sometimes."

"You aren't--" Cad's eyes follow Fjord as he gets up, just enough to move from kneeling in front of the bed to sitting on it by Cad's side. He shakes his head.

"No, I know. It's just-- the family business being what it is can really...shape a person in particular ways. Not wanting to lose someone is probably the one thing shared by everyone who's ever come to the Grove, but in their case, it was always unavoidable, something that had already happened: they wanted to _not have lost_ someone. And, it was always something I watched other people do and feel, it didn't have anything to do with me. So to think of not wanting to lose someone as, to begin with, something a person might direct at _me_, but then also as an _active_ thing, an ongoing thing, something there's still time to cultivate and work towards, is-- I'm still adjusting."

"...I understand."

"I don't want to lose you, either. And-- I don't want you to lose me. I _will_ try and be better about healing myself. Or asking for help."

Fjord smiles. "That's a relief."

They both fall silent, and he finds himself holding his breath at the way Cad's eyes flit here and there across his face. When Cad leans in it isn't entirely a surprise, and he moves slow enough that Fjord could lean away if he wanted.

Fjord wouldn't move an inch if Melora Herself appeared in the room.

Cad's lips are soft against his. Fjord lets his eyes drift closed and shifts a little closer, tilting his head, but keeps his hands on the bed and doesn't try to deepen the kiss. There's a light brush of warmth against his shoulder from Cad's tumbling hair, and at the edges of the kiss he can taste a hint of salt on Cad's skin from the sweat of the day's exertion, along with Cad's usual musty, loamy scent.

When Cad pulls away, Fjord opens his eyes to find that he hasn't gone far. His face nearly fills Fjord's field of view, and it reminds him of the vision from Melora when She accepted his service.

"That was really nice," Cad says -- rumbles, really, his voice rattling around low in his chest. Fjord wants to lay his head on Cad's chest to listen to it.

"It certainly was."

After staring into his eyes for a long moment, Cad flops sideways and back, sprawling across the bed. A grin twitches across Fjord's face.

"You're going to sleep, just, like that?" He gestures at Cad's pants, the sash still wrapped around his waist, the shirts that he's now lying on top of.

"Yeah. Think I am." There's a warm happiness in Cad's voice. "Don't want to bother with the rest of it. Too tired. Just gonna end the night on a high note."

Fjord hums. "Well, put like that, it does sound perfectly sensible."

He falls forward onto the bed.


End file.
